If you’re reading this, you’re probably someone who cares deeply about growth — about reconnecting, reclaiming, or refining your reo, your hauora, your whakapapa.

And if you’re anything like me, that journey hasn't always been gentle.

When I started reclaiming my reo, I thought the biggest challenge would be the grammar, the vocabulary, the sentence structures.

What I didn’t realise was that the hardest thing to overcome wasn’t outside of me — it was inside.

It was the voice in my own head.

Some days, I can flow in te reo Māori. I can kōrero with my tamaiti, karakia with ease, and share in spaces I never thought I would belong. But other days, that critical voice creeps back in.

It says things like:

• You should be better at this by now.

• Why is this so hard for you?

• You’re dumb. You’re not good enough. You don’t belong here.

It’s sneaky.

And if I’m not careful, that voice becomes the story I believe about myself.

This is what I want to talk about today.

Not just about te reo Māori, but about the voice behind the voice — the internal dialogue that can either uplift us or slowly tear us down. For me its harming my Reo journey, but I know its the same voice that has crept up in other spaces.

In te ao Māori, we know the power of kupu.

Words are not empty. Kupu are carriers of mauri, of intention, of energy. When we speak, we weave worlds — and that includes the worlds we create inside ourselves.

But so often, the kupu we direct inward are harsh, unforgiving, and relentless.

We speak to ourselves in ways we would never speak to someone we love. And over time, those thoughts become our beliefs. Those beliefs shape our actions. Those actions become our patterns. And before we know it, we’re living a life guided not by our potential, but by the cruel voice inside us.

That’s why it matters to tune in — to really listen — to what your inner voice is saying.

Pause and ask yourself right now — What does my inner voice sound like when I make a mistake? When I feel whakamā? When I fall short of my own expectations?

You might notice it’s not very kind. You might realise it’s not even your voice — but echoes of teachers, parents, society, colonisation, and trauma.

The good news is: once you hear it, you can begin to change it.

Hine Nui Te Pō — The Ultimate Story of Transformation

Hine-nui-te-tama was born of Tāne and Hineahuone, the first woman shaped from the earth. She grew up not knowing that Tāne, the one she loved and created a whānau with, was her own father. When she discovered the truth, the weight of that knowledge was devastating.

Her world shattered. The person she thought she was — the life she thought she had — fell apart. But what did she do? She didn’t stay in the shame. She didn’t spiral in the darkness and let that kōrero define her forever. She made a choice. She walked away.

She stepped into Te Pō, the realm of darkness, and transformed herself into Hine-nui-te-pō — the goddess of death, the guardian who receives all of us when our journey in Te Ao Mārama is done.

That is the ultimate reminder:

We can rewrite our stories.

We can shift our narratives.

We do not have to stay stuck in the hurt, the mamae, or the self-talk that tells us we are not enough.

Like Hine-nui-te-tama we can choose to transform — to step out of the voice of shame and into the voice of aroha, wisdom, and compassion.

How to Begin Changing Your Inner Narrative

Tune In: Become the Observer

The first step is to notice. You cannot change what you are unaware of. Spend one day just listening to your internal dialogue. No judgement — just observe - be curious

Ask yourself:

• What am I saying to myself when I feel whakamā?

• When do I hear criticism most strongly?

• Whose voice does it sound like?

Write Down the Narrative

Grab a journal and write down the exact words of your inner critic. Seeing them on paper is powerful. It gives you distance.

Often, when you read it back, you’ll realise how unfair and untrue it is.

Identify the whakapapa of this whakaaro

Reflect on where these beliefs might have come from. Was it something you were told as a tamaiti? Is it old trauma resurfacing?

The more you understand where the voice comes from, the less power it has.

Begin Rewriting

For every harsh thought you’ve written down, write a compassionate response next to it. For example:

“You’re dumb”

→ “I am learning, and learning takes time.”

“You’re not good enough”

→ “I am enough because I exist.”

You don’t have to believe the new voice straight away.

It will feel awkward at first.

But over time, you will build a new narrative — one rooted in truth and aroha.

Practice Compassion Daily

Make this part of your daily hauora practice:

• Start your day by saying one kind thing to yourself.

• End your day by acknowledging one thing you did well.

• When you make a mistake, pause and breathe before your critic takes over.